Reprieve
by 19RosesofLifeandDeath98
Summary: Kory and Dick need a night out. Gar wants someone to play video games with, and Rachel wants some french fries. (dickkory all the way; bbrae as a brotp; fluff and mush and all the good stuff)
1. Chapter 1

Kory makes it about three steps into Gar's room before he's jumping up from his desk chair with his hands up.

"It wasn't me." He squeaks.

"What? I'm not…" Kory freezes, eyes narrowed. "What did you do?"

Gar blinks, a nervous smile creeping across his face. "Um, nothing?"

Kory sighs. "Okay, we'll talk about this later. I need to ask you something."

Gar quirks an eyebrow, intrigued. He hops onto his bed, legs crossed. "What's up?"

"I wanna have a date night with Dick and… _why are you laughing?_"

Gar covers his mouth, but fails to contain the giggles. Kory puts both hands on her hips and gives him a withering mom-look. He swallows and bows his head respectfully.

"Okay, so…" he ponders, "What do you want me to do about it?"

Kory softens her gaze and sits beside him on the bed, placing her hand gently on his knee. Gar seems caught off guard by the change of tone and looks at her seriously.

"I just want to know that you guys will be okay."

She doesn't need to elaborate on _why_they wouldn't be okay. Gar hasn't been sleeping well – _yay, nightmares! _– and Rachel had a pretty brutal panic attack a few days ago. Kory's worried about leaving them alone – more specifically, not being here when they need her.

Gar puts on a well-practiced smile and shrugs for good measure. "Yeah, we're chill." Kory just keeps looking at him. His confidence wavers a bit. "Really, we're fine."

"Garfield." Kory says, so calm and understanding it kind of makes Gar want to cry.

He tries again to reassure her, but the words get stuck in his throat. Kory's other hand grips his arm, rubbing little circles with her thumb. It's the comfort he needs to loosen the vice in his chest. He lets out a long breath.

"Okay, so maybe things have been kind of intense lately, but…" he struggles for words. Kory just waits patiently. "But we're fine. I mean we're not _great_, but we'll be okay. And there's no reason you and Dick should give up your lives for us."

"First of all," she says, flicking his nose. "We're not giving up our lives for you. Don't ever think that. Second, I know you guys can handle yourselves. I just wanted to make sure."

Gar smiles, for real this time. "We'll be fine, Kory. Go have fun."

Kory's eyebrow raises mischievously. "Oh, I plan on it."

His smiles drops. "_Gross!_" He shoves her. "Out, out, out!"

Kory doesn't stop laughing until she's halfway down the hall.

Dick's going over police reports when Kory literally drops herself in his lap. He gets about two words out before she silences him with a devouring kiss. It shorts out his brain and shoots heat straight to his groin. His hands spasm before finding purchase against her hips. Just as quickly as it had begun, the kiss ends as Kory pulls back.

"We're going out." She says, as breathless as he feels.

Dick blinks, processes. "Oh… okay. Do the kids need something?"

"No."

"Groceries?"

"_No_. You and I are going out."

He blinks again. "Why?"

"_Oh my God, Richard_."

"I'm sorry! I just… this seems kind of sudden."

"It's not." She cages his face with her hands. "It's the result of weeks of pent up stress and stir-craziness." His brows furrow slightly with concern. Kory rolls her eyes. "Dick, we deserve a night out. When's the last time you had one, even before you met Rachel?"

"I went to see Clay."

"Yeah, to make sure he didn't get murdered."

"I went to Donna's art show."

"Because she made you. Dick, _come on_. We're going out, just the two of us, and we're having a good time."

A wry smile tugs at Dick's lips. "Well, the 'just the two of us' part sounds pretty good." Then his expression falls. "But the kids…"

"I talked to Gar."

"What about Rachel?"

"She'll be okay, Dick. It's one night, and I think she could use some space, too."

Dick looks a little offended at that. "Are you saying I smother her?"

"Yes."

He laughs at her bluntness and tucks his chin against his chest, embarrassed. Kory buries her fingers in his hair and kisses his head. He lets out a grand sigh which she takes as her victory.

"All of the important phone numbers are on the fridge." Dick says, double checking that his keys are in his jacket pocket. "There's leftovers that you can heat up, or you can get delivery. Money's on the table."

"_We got it_." Gar whines, spinning idly on the kitchen stool.

Rachel sits at the other side of the island, her head resting against the counter top. Dick shoots her a questioning look that she answers with a glum smile. "We'll be fine, Dick. Try not to be a buzzkill the whole night."

He rolls his eyes, readying a snappy retort when Kory comes downstairs. Her holographic eyeshadow and teal lipstick look amazing, even in the lackluster light of their kitchen. Her fur coat is pulled tightly around her, so he can't tell what she's wearing other than her boots. He's immediately suspicious, but she's smiling more than he's seen her in weeks, so he lets it go.

"You ready?" She says, and it takes him a good ten seconds to process what she means.

"Oh, yeah, yeah." The kids snicker at him, which he ignores. "Ready when you are."

For some reason, he offers her his arm like they're in a period drama or something. The kids laugh again but Kory doesn't seem to care, either. She takes his arm and beams at him so brightly it melts his heart.

Tugging him toward the door, Kory throws a final warning over her shoulder. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Rachel calls after them. "That's really not good advice."


	2. Chapter 2

Gar's silent for all of ten seconds after Dick and Kory leave. Rachel is almost impressed. Then he's bounding into the living room and launching himself onto the couch. The game controller he'd left there – despite Dick's multiple reminders to put it away – goes flying into the air. Gar catches it with one hand and offers it to Rachel.

"Wanna play?" he says, trying so hard to act casual Rachel almost laughs.

She really doesn't want to. She _wants _to crawl back into bed and sulk for the next week, but Gar looks so damn hopeful, and even though they're not here, Rachel feels like Dick and Kory would want her to try, so she does.

"What are we playing?" she says.

Gar's whole expression perks up. "Whatever you want." He starts rummaging through the not-so-modest collection of games he's accumulated in the cabinet under their T.V. "You strike me as a quest-driven kind of girl." He holds up some game called _Left for Dead 2. _

Rachel shrugs. She sits beside him on the couch and barely catches the controller when he tosses it to her. Her fingers feel awkward over the buttons and she has a sinking feeling that this is going to suck. But Gar is _so _happy. What kind of jerk would she be if she ruined this for him?

Gar flips through the menu screen and starts the game. One advantage of growing up with a demon alter-ego is that stuff like video game zombies don't scare her in the slightest. Gar keeps talking over the cut scenes, and Rachel nods along with mild interest.

The gameplay is pretty simple. They're just running around an abandoned town, killing different kinds of zombies – because that's apparently a thing. Rachel accidentally shoots Gar twice as much as she shoots an actual zombie. Gar is sweet about it, though, which almost makes it worse.

"Wish this game had a friendly-fire option." He laughs after she kills him for the third time.

Her cheeks burn with embarrassment. They get to a horde of zombies that Gar nearly decimates on his own, but it's not enough. They die two tries in a row and Rachel's actually getting pretty frustrated. Gar notices and pauses the game, shifting on the couch so that he's facing her.

"You're not having fun, are you?"

"Of course I am!" Rachel smiles, but it's stiff and unconvincing. Gar raises an eyebrow and she sighs. "Sorry, I'm just… I don't really like video games."

Gar doesn't look mad, or even a little bit annoyed. He just shrugs, eyes curious. "What kind of games do you like?"

Rachel thinks for a moment, surprised by the fondness that blossoms in her chest. "Melissa had all of these old board games: Cluedo, Monopoly, Scrabble." She giggles a little to herself. "It was missing a lot of vowels and instead of replacing them, we just made up words that had like three k's and an x."

Gar grins. "That's cool. Which one was your favorite?"

Rachel thinks. "Battleship."

"Really?"

She shrugs. "I could always tell where Melissa put her pieces, so I always won."

"You cheated!" he gasps, utterly delighted.

"I didn't even know I had powers at that point."

"Still." He teases. He thinks for a moment and his expression sobers. When he speaks, his voice is tentative and small. "My mom taught me a lot of card games."

Rachel's heart tightens in empathy. She moves so that her head is resting on his thigh, her legs dangling over the arm of the couch. Gar chuckles a bit.

"Do you have a deck?" She asks. "You could teach me how to play."

Gar shakes his head. "I had a few decks back at Dr. Caulder's."

Rachel frowns. She lifts her head, eyes zeroing in on the stack of money Dick left on the counter. She pulls herself off the couch and holds out her hands. Gar raises an eyebrow.

"Come on." She says, and he allows her to pull him up.

"What are we doing?"

Rachel grabs her hoodie off the coat rack, then goes into the kitchen and shoves the cash into her pocket. "We're going out."

The night air bites at Gar's cheeks, but he doesn't mind. His body is humming with excitement as Rachel leads him through the city streets. She won't tell him where they're going, which makes it even better. Her hood is pulled tight around her face and she looks more alive than Gar has seen her in days.

_He was the one who found her. She was in the bathroom, gripping the edge of the sink so hard her knuckles were white. Her breathing was loud and ragged, her eyes shut tight like she was scared to open them. He said her name so she'd hear him approach. He put his hand on her shoulder and she'd flinched – not because he hurt her, but because she was afraid of hurting him. _

Gar startles and realizes that Rachel has stopped several feet behind him. She raises her eyebrow mockingly. He laughs sheepishly and trots back toward her.

"Sorry, started thinking 'bout something."

"Did it hurt?" She teases and he playfully shoves her. "We're here."

Gar turns to where she's looking: an old store front with _Ami_'s _Games and Jokes _painted on the door. The display windows show vintage comics, tinker toys, puzzle games, and posters.

"What is this place?" Gar says, spellbound. "And where have _I _been?"

Rachel laughs. "Come on."

She takes him by the arm and pulls him into the store. A bell above the door clangs as they enter. If Gar's eyes had been wide before, they're gaping, now. Rachel can't contain her excitement, either. She's passed this place dozens of times but never ventured inside.

Everything looks like some sort of beautiful safety hazard: shelves overflowing with games and action figures, boxes of books and consoles, everything you could ever think to put in a toy shop. There's a bucket full of dice siting on a giant Jenga set with a sign that says _4 for $1. _

An elderly woman with short peppered hair and huge glasses stops dusting the cash register and smiles brightly at them. "Evening." Gar and Rachel give awkward little nods. "Domino sets are _buy one, get one 50% off_."

"Thanks." Rachel says, turning to Gar, but he's already perusing the vintage board games.

"Dude," he gawks, running his hands along the sides of the boxes, "this is sick."

Rachel joins him. "I figured your little nerd heart would like this place."

"Oh, my little nerd heart _very _much likes this place." Something catches his eye at the back of the shop. He squawks excitedly and disappears into the maze of shelves.

Rachel looks to make sure he's out of sight before commencing her search. Her eyes scan the shelves, zeroing in on a box of discount card decks. She starts sifting through it when the old woman – who she assumes is Ami – wanders over to her, dusting as she goes.

"Fan of cards?" she asks, curious.

"Not really," Rachel says, keeping her voice down. "They're a gift."

"For your friend with the funny hair?"

She grins. "Yeah."

To her surprise, Ami glances quickly to the side, as if to make sure no one is watching – which is easy, since they're the only ones in here. She gestures for Rachel to follow her to the counter. Rachel obliges hesitantly as Ami roots around for something. After a moment of searching, she pulls out an unassuming box. She pushes it toward Rachel.

Inside are card decks, some in clear plastic containers, others wrapped in leather pouches. The artwork on each deck is detailed and unique. Rachel examines one that is illustrated with classic fairytale characters.

"That one was from my first trip to Saint Petersburg." Ami says proudly. "A treat to myself after I finished graduate school."

"It's beautiful." Rachel says as she continues browsing. She picks up a blue deck with white flowers and a golden sun emblem.

"Ah, Buenos Aires. This was one of my first decks. I did an exchange program when I was a teenager."

Rachel smiles, but it's stiff. She's always a little jealous when people talk about their world travels. She picks up one of the leather pouches and gingerly removes the deck. She lets out a gasp, sifting through one card after another. Each is a different animal, the illustrations so detailed they look more like miniature paintings than playing cards.

"Kyoto." Ami says wistfully. "Such a beautiful city, so much history. Now that art style is very interesting. It's called Ukiyo-e."

"Wow." Rachel says, unable to take her eyes away from the cards.

Ami appraises her for a moment, then says. "Ten dollars."

Rachel blinks. "What?" The woman repeats herself. Rachel shakes her head. "No, no I can't buy these from you."

Ami grunts a laugh. "Fifteen, then." Rachel's expression sours. "Oh, come on, this is my game shop, isn't it?"

"But these are yours. All of your travels."

Ami's smile becomes soft. She extends out her hand and Rachel turns over the cards and the leather pouch.

"You take them, dear." she says, fitting the cards back into the pouch and tying it shut. "It gives me an excuse to go back."

Rachel smiles, feeling a little humbled, and pulls fifteen dollars out of her pocket. She stashes the cards away just in time before Gar comes bounding back into the front of the store.

"See anything you like?" She asks innocently.

"Um… _everything. _How about you?"

Rachel shrugs and can _feel_Ami grin smugly. "Let's go." She says quickly.

Gar nods, giving the woman an appreciative nod and they head toward the door.

"Come again soon, little bird."

Rachel freezes and looks over her shoulder, but Ami has gone back to dusting. She and Gar share a questioning look but silently agree to drop it. They head back the way they came, but Rachel stops when they get to the street corner.

Gar pauses. "What's up?"

Rachel looks around intently for a second, then says. "I don't want to go home yet."

He grins. "Okay. Where do you want to go?"

Rachel pretends to think about it. "I could _really _go for some french fries, right now."

Gar knows the place she's talking about and takes off in a run. She yelps in surprise and takes off after him, their laughter echoing down the street.


	3. Chapter 3

Dick had suggested that they get a taxi, but Kory wanted to walk. She said the club wasn't too far and the fresh air would be good for them. That's easy to say when you're a Tamaranean who runs hotter than the sun, but Dick isn't really complaining. How can he? They're walking arm-in-arm and Kory still has that dazzling smile on her face. He takes in the city with wide, innocent eyes, almost like a tourist, his blinders coming down for the first time in weeks. Kory's right, as usual. They needed this.

They come up on one of their favorite restaurants, _El Toro_, while two waiters take their breaks on the front steps. They're having a heated debate that Dick can barely follow, but Kory throws in some remark that has them both laughing. Spanish is the most recent conquest in her master plan to learn all Earthen languages. When she looks back at him her eyes narrow, probably because of the stupid grin on his face.

"Can I help you, Richard?"

He shrugs. "Just glad we did this."

The smile she gives him is just as brilliant, but it's softer, somehow. She pulls him tighter against her side as they continue down the street.

0o0o0o0

The club's atmosphere is potent, burning in Kory's lungs like hard liquor. Reflective panels in the floor bounce neon light all over the room, flitting across the mass of dancing bodies. Dick turns, probably to comment on how it's all _a bit extra _for his taste, but totally freezes when Kory removes her coat. She tries not to look too pleased with herself. She's wearing a high-waisted skirt with a racy slit up the side and a purple bandeau. Dick's eyes devour every inch of her, and it's a solid thirty seconds before he actually meets her gaze. She raises an eyebrow, daring him to voice whatever devious thoughts are whirling through his head. He doesn't take the bait, though, and instead tugs at her hand, bringing it to his lips.

"You look beautiful." He murmurs, barely audible over the music.

Kory's not blushing, and if she is, the neon lights will keep her secret. They drop off their coats and weave through the swarm of dancers. By some stroke of luck, they actually get seats at the bar. Kory considers it a good omen, a sign that they really deserved this. The stress of the last few weeks slowly loosens it grip, and Kory actually shivers from the release.

She orders a round of tequila shots, to which Dick fondly rolls his eyes as if to say _of course you would. _Once that's over with, Kory gets a whiskey sour. The bartender asks Dick what he wants, but Dick doesn't answer, just looks at Kory expectantly. She's not sure how exactly this became a thing: ordering the weirdest, most random drinks for him when they go out. Good or bad, Dick always plays up his reaction just to make her laugh.

"Can I please get a…" her eyes quickly dance over the specialty mixes, "Blue Monkey for the gentleman?"

Dick snorts. The bartender nods and leaves to fix their drinks. Kory scoots to the edge of her barstool so that her legs are wedged between Dick's. He quirks an eyebrow, leaning enticingly close, challenge and mirth shining in his eyes. Kory's grinning like an idiot, the tequila singing in her veins. Her hand snakes up his shirt and pulls him in for a kiss. It's quick – they try to keep their PDA pretty tame– but there's heat to it, a fire reignited after weeks of tension smothering it.

Dick's laughter breaks the moment, his shoulders shaking in an effort to suppress it. Kory finds herself laughing with him. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing, I just…" He shakes his head. "I'm glad _this _is what you had in mind. Much better than getting groceries."

"Hm, making out at the supermarket. Not on my to-do list, but if you wanna give it a shot…"

0o0o0o0

"Let's dance."

Kory's surprised. Usually, if they do go clubbing, she has to drag Dick's ass onto the dancefloor. He _allegedly_prefers more civilized events, like that Wayne Co. gala Alfred had dragged them to a few months ago, where the dancing was more like applied calculus than feeling the music. Kory's told him he just needs the right partner.

She can tell by the way his hands immediately find her hips that he enjoys this more than he lets on. His fingers are firm but not possessive, letting her move freely to the beat. Her own hands flirt with his biceps and chest before resting at the base of his neck, keeping him where she wants him. All stimuli that is not his body against hers falls out of focus.

The minutes pass by in a blur of sound and color. They laugh for seemingly no reason and dance until they can't breathe. Dick calls for a time out and Kory obliges, never admitting that she could use a break, too. They lost their seats at the bar, but there's enough space to stand and order another round of drinks.

They clink shot glasses and slam them back with reverie. Dick licks his lips and Kory unabashedly stares. He smirks, ducking in to peck her cheek. Alright, so their usual rules about PDA have gone out the window, but it's one night. One night after weeks of tense patrols and worrying themselves sick over the kids. Who can blame them?

Dick pulls back, shouting over the music. "Bathroom. Be right back."

Watching him try and weave through the crowd without knocking someone over is amusing. Kory turns back to the bar, catching the eyes of a tall blonde nursing a drink in the opposite corner. Kory smiles automatically, and the woman smiles back, prying herself away from the bar-top and coming over.

"Hey." She says in a raspy voice.

Kory presses her lips together, trying not to laugh at the slur in her words. "Hi."

"I'm Anya."

"Kory."

"What brings you here tonight, Kory?"

The opportunity presents itself, and Kory takes it gladly. "Well, I left the kids at home to spend a night out with my boyfriend."

Her words register slowly, but when they do, Anya's face is priceless. "You have kids?"

"Yep, boy and a girl. You're surprised right? Believe me, they were both unexpected." Anya's jaw unhinges and now Kory does laugh. "Sorry to disappoint you."

Kory traces the rim of her glass while Anya composes herself. Running a hand through her hair, she sets her elbow on the bar and leans in.

"Not disappointed. Honestly, I'm impressed."

"Impressed?"

"Yeah. Hot-as-hell single mother who can kill it on a dancefloor? Impressive."

Kory wags her finger. "Uh-uh. Someone wasn't listening." She'd know his presence anywhere, feels his fingers on her spine and grins. "Not single."

"Hey ladies." Dick drawls beside her. Anya probably won't pick up on the edge in his voice, but Kory doesn't miss it.

"Ah." Anya mumbles after a moment. "I forgot. The boyfriend."

"Present and accounted for." Dick gibes.

Anya glances between them, her lips pressed in a thin line. She offers a terse nod before returning to the other side of the bar. Kory rolls her eyes, turning in Dick's arms so they're facing one another.

"Glad to see you're not the jealous type."

"One of my lesser flaws." His kiss swiftly silences any argument to that statement.

Kory is definitely feeling the alcohol, now. Her whole body sways when his lips meet hers and she has to push against the bar to keep steady. The friction between them drags a moan from Dick's throat that sends shockwaves down Kory's spine.

"Wish the blonde had stuck around." She teases, "The three of us could have had a good time."

Dick's expression morphs from scandalized to considering to downright mischievous. His one hand drifts over the exposed skin at her midriff, the other snaking up her thigh.

"Maybe I don't want to share you." He purrs, kissing just below her ear. "Maybe I want you all to myself."

Kory bites her lip, trying and probably failing to control her breathing. "Well, there are a lot of people in here, Mr. Grayson. If you want me, I suggest we go somewhere more private.

Dick pulls back, his face millimeters from hers, eyes searching. For what, Kory's not sure. He can't doubt she's serious, can't doubt that she wants him, yet here he stands, waiting for her to do… something. To sign off on whatever idea is taking shape in his head. Her lips pull up in a smirk and she raises an eyebrow as if to say _I'm waiting, Boy Wonder._

That seems to settle it. Dick squeezes her arm then pushes back into the crowd without a word. Kory drums her fingers against the bar, deciding that it's probably a good time to close their tab. When she turns back, she spots Dick talking to a surly man wearing a _staff _t-shirt. They're positioned next to a black metal staircase that leads to a doorway blocked by velvet curtains; some sort of VIP lounge, Kory assumes.

It looks like Dick is trying to convince the guard of something, but he isn't having much luck. Then he slips something into the man's hand, and the guard nods. When Dick makes it back to her, Kory's eyebrows are at her hairline.

"Um…. what was that?"

Dick blushes, tugging her away from the bar. "Follow me."

They head toward the metal staircase, the guard shooting Dick a knowing look as they pass. Dick stops at the top of the stairs, pulling back one of the curtains and ushering her inside. They must be sound absorbing, because as soon as she steps inside, the blaring music disappears. There's a smaller dancefloor at the end of the lounge, a few velvet couches and floor tables, and a massive jukebox.

Kory nods approvingly. Dick hovers by the doorway, making sure she's satisfied before taking in the space, himself. When he's close enough, Kory grabs a fistful of his shirt and pulls him to her.

"Nicely done, Mr. Grayson." Her palm slides down his chest, around his side to rest on the small of his back.

Dick doesn't waste another second, cupping her face and consuming her with a kiss. An unbidden sigh escapes her lips, her body melting against his. It's relief and lust and love pouring out of her in waves so powerful she nearly collapses under the pressure. Dick's hands begin a slow trek down her body, slipping under her bandeau and making her gasp.

"Dick," she breathes, "anyone could come in."

His hand stills and he blushes again. "That won't be a problem."

She blinks at him for a moment, then it clicks. "Did you rent out the lounge?" His silence answers her. "How the hell did you pay for that?"

He ducks his head. "I may have… used some of the money Bruce left us."

Kory's stunned. Normally Dick wouldn't touch that money under any circumstances. The more she ruminates on it, the harder it is to keep a straight face.

"You used some of the limited cash supply your estranged adoptive father left you so we could have sex in a club lounge?"

Dick cringes. "You know, it seemed kind of romantic in my head but now that you say it out loud…"

She's laughing when she kisses him.


End file.
